


Close your eyes to old endings

by estei



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 02:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13203669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estei/pseuds/estei
Summary: Stacker is brooding and Herc knows just what to do - bring food and gruff sass.





	Close your eyes to old endings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vongchild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vongchild/gifts).



> Hope this satisfies the 'found family' theme!

Stacker Pentecost did not startle when the weight of a familiar palm touched his shoulder, but it was a near thing. 

“You missed dinner,” Herc said gruffly, though any censure he may have been aiming for was undercut by the still-warm plate he slid onto the desk at Stacker’s elbow. Fragrant steam escaped from the plastic wrap and his stomach rumbled in response. Stacker chose to ignore the knowing smirk that tugged at Herc’s mouth, instead busying himself with unwrapping the offering. 

“Ah, Soo-Yong’s garlic beef,” Stacker murmured, his appreciation for Herc’s gesture growing. 

“Knew you wouldn’t want to miss it,” Herc said, shamelessly taking advantage of Stacker’s distraction to snap up the file he’d been so focused on. He dropped into one the empty chairs, still askew from the enthusiastic visit from the K science division, and snapped open the folder. Stacker didn’t bother offering a reprimand, he’d been planning on asking the other man’s advice and the Australian had developed a very peculiar case of selective hearing since Pitfall anyway. Claimed it had to do with surviving a nuclear blast, and Stacker had to admit they were long past formalities. The man had been his trusted second in command, and his partner, for too long to start trying to wall off the professional from their personal lives. 

Still, it didn’t hurt to offer a reminder now and then, keep him on his toes. 

“Personnel files, particularly of the medical nature, are meant to be confidential,” he said mildly. 

“Still on about that, are ya,” Herc grunted. “If you’re so worried about sticky beaks I’d suggest using the fingerprint secured tablet that’s gathering dust in the corner there.” Stacker was busy chewing a delicious mouthful of perfectly sautéed beef and thus did not bother with his part of the well-worn argument. “Cleared for light duty, he won’t be tickled about that,” Herc sighed as he shuffled through the papers. 

“Better than the alternative,” Stacker shrugged. “Better than what they predicted, after the first scan.”

_Better than dead,_ he didn’t say. 

“Too right,” Herc nodded. “Though, I think he’s starting to feel a bit at loose ends. I've had to chase him out of the kwoon a few times now.” 

“You noticed that, too? I’ve been given some thought to what role would best suit him, given the limits medical’s imposed for now. I’d like your input, I haven’t been able to come up with much yet, and though I’d wager he might have the aptitude for some of the work I don’t think it would be best to send him down with the scientists.”

“K Science still pushing for the study?” Herc said, though he obviously knew the answer by the resigned look on his face. 

“What do you think? The only Ranger to have piloted solo twice, not to mention exposure to the Anterverse… “

“I figured as much. Geiszler’s been spoutin’ off about it at every opportunity, he tried to ambush Raleigh in the mess yesterday, but I sent him on his way.” Herc shook his head. 

“Thank you for that. I’m surprised that Becket hasn’t lost his temper yet. I told you about what happened in the elevator, right off the damn chopper? Those bloody tattoos. The Becket I knew in Anchorage would have laid ‘im out flat for that, in a heartbeat. Truth be told, I’m still waiting for that punch to land,” Stacker huffed, but then some of the amusement drained away. “It’s not just K Science. There are external parties with interest in that particular knowledge.” He paused and set his fork down, meal forgotten for now. 

“What does Raleigh think?” Herc asked, and the playfulness of their exchange dropped away entirely. In a blink they were Marshall and Ranger, not Stacker and Herc, a shift that could be jarring for some, but had always worked for them. Though the familiar use of Ranger Becket’s name did hint at a change, a softening of the boundaries… Stacker shook himself. Wool-gathering again, he thought ruefully, showing his age. 

“He hasn’t said anything. Not to me, and not to Mako, either.” 

“You spoke to Mako about it, then,” Herc said, the barest hint of surprise in his tone. 

“Not in so many words, but she is… concerned.” Stacker leaned back. “She’s been in all the meetings with the UN. She has become something of a formidable negotiator.” 

“I believe ‘truly terrifying’ were the words used after the last call,” Herc chuckled, and Stacker couldn’t help but grin in return. 

“Yes, well, she’s aware of the interest. She suspects that Becket is waiting for me to make it an order, that he’ll comply if I do.” 

“Ah,” Herc said. 

“I won’t,” Stacker said, and though the truth of statement surprised him, he could see the knowing glint in Herc’s eye. “I won’t even ask.” 

“They’ll fight you.” 

“I know.” Stacker pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’re not wrong. The breach is closed, for now, but any information we can glean about the Anteverse could be invaluable. We can’t assume… we cannot afford to be complacent.” 

“You won’t hear me disagree, but I reckon there’s a big difference between complacency and what they’re after. Geizler’s got a headful of Kaiju nonsense that they’ll be sorting a while yet, actual intel straight from the hive mind, or whatever the hell they’re calling it. Raleigh was already in shock, oxygen deprived, and more focused on initiating the self-destruct, and if he _gleaned_ anything at all who can say how reliable it would be.” 

“You’re right,” Stacker said slowly, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. 

“’Course I am,” Herc huffed. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?” 

Almost against his will, Stacker barked out a laugh. All of the years and scars and losses that had brought to this place, improbably still together, still alive. Stacker had always been a realist, by nature and necessity, and now with the luxury and peace and time he can admit that in the last years of the war he had taken his innate pragmatism to an almost ruthless extreme. The fight had been bigger than the grief and guilt and wants of any one person, a reality that had been made all too clear to him as he’d watched Gipsy and Striker leave the Shatterdome for the final battle, carrying what was left of his family. He had not wavered, it had never entered his mind as an option, but now… now he does not know if he could bend to such a sacrifice again. 

“I was conflicted,” Stacker admitted. He rubbed his fingertips on the edge of his desk.

“You’ve been distracted,” Herc said. “I didn’t realize you were so worried. You should have spoken to me sooner.” 

This time the censure was clear, and Stacker dipped his head in acknowledgment, reaching out to give Herc’s wrist a squeeze. 

“I should have,” he agreed. “But depending on the medical clearance it may all have been moot. Even the UN wouldn’t have pushed…”

“Light duty isn’t exactly all clear,” Herc reminded him. 

“No, we know that, but to those vultures it might as well be an invitation. They’ll use Raleigh up and-“ 

“Stacks,” Herc reached out this time, shaking his shoulder gently. “We won’t let them. Mako won’t let them, hell, Chuck will start throwing punches if they try.” 

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” Stacker said with a sly smile. 

“Oh, Christ, don’t,” Herc rubbed his palm across his face. “I think we have enough to worry about without adding whatever flirtation is between those clownshoes.” 

“True enough, I suppose.” Stacker allowed himself a chuckle. 

“’Sides, Mako seems to like knocking their heads together now and again, I’m sure she’ll keep ‘em in line.” 

“I am quite certain she will. They’ve been good for her, I wouldn’t have expected it but they are.” 

“There you go, the kids will sort it out on their own.” 

“A terrifying idea,” Stacker smirked. 

“Maybe once,” Herc nodded. “Our job now is to make sure they have the time to sort it out. Stacks, we fought our wars, but our family, that’s what I’ll fight for now.”  
Stacker bowed his head, overcome with affection and admiration for the man beside him. Anything seemed possible with Herc Hansen by his side. He wanted to tell him that, tell him how his life had been made immeasurably better with him in it, but those kinds of declarations weren’t that way. 

Or, they hadn’t been. Maybe with time they could find a new way. And yet, for now…

“Going soft me, Hansen?” Stacker smiled, pleased when he saw a blush spread across the other man’s cheeks.

“Alright, enough of this. Your damn dinner’s getting cold, and after all the trouble I went to. Eat up, and we’ll sort out how to get rid of those UN wankers later.” Herc grumbled, though Stacker didn’t miss the way he stretched out his legs to knock their ankles together. 

Yes, they had time.


End file.
